Here's to the Future
by LovelyLytton
Summary: Post-Airmail. Ando's journey begins.


**Egypt**

With a groan, Ando sunk into the rickety chair outside the small café. The streets of Cairo were filled with myriads of people, and even though he had lived in both Tokyo and New York, it was a whole new definition of busy. His mind still reeling with the beautiful images of the pyramids, he needed a moment of respite, so he had disappeared into a small alley, and walked until people were few, smells of food were plenty and the café came into vision like a mirage in the desert. It looked small and homely, with only four tables in front of it, shadowed by an awning that reminded him of Makoto's. The sound of a TV blaring inside did nothing to alter the positive impression he had of the place, so he sat down, and exhaled. It had been a beautiful day, but it had been a long day as well.

His feet were hurting in a way they never had before, which was no surprise given the amount of sand that was rubbing against his skin and the still hard leather of his hiking boots. He remembered how Hiromasa had laughed when he had seen the boots right before Ando left.

* * *

"_What, you're going on a trip around the world in new boots? Are you insane?"_

_Hiromasa shook his head and laughed, a rough but pleasant sound. Ando knew that he would miss it._

"_They are really good boots, you idiot. I bought them yesterday, and the salesman said that they would last a lifetime. Well, he doesn't know about the whole immortality bit, but that doesn't change a thing. Those are damn fine boots."_

_Grinning, Hiromasa picked up the Wii controller again. "Send me a postcard when your feet are starting to bleed, okay?"_

_

* * *

_

An elderly waiter appeared out of nowhere, and Ando frantically searched for a menu. There wasn't one.

"Um, sparkling water and a coffee, please." The waiter winked at him, and said something that to Ando, sounded either incredibly poetic or really rude.

"Right, you don't speak English. Sorry, stupid of me." Ando looked around helplessly and then pointed to a nearby table, where a woman was sipping some coffee. "I want what she has, please. And water." Ando drew the outline of a water bottle in the air, and then mimicked drinking from a bottle for good measure. The waiter broke into a smile, patted Ando on the shoulder and walked inside.

Bending down, Ando untied the shoelaces on one boot and pulled it and the offensively smelling sock off. Indeed, there were three large blisters on his foot, two of which had burst and were now bleeding because the sand had rubbed the flesh raw. Minako had once told him about the dance lessons she took when she was younger, and how her feet had bled from dancing en pointe. Examining his foot, Ando muttered "like a fucking ballerina" under his breath, and decided to buy a pair of sandals tomorrow. Removing the second boot and sock, he got up and took a few steps before sitting back down again. He would definitely head back to the hostel barefoot, no doubt about that. Throwing his baseball cap on the empty chair next to him, he wondered how bad the sunburn on his arms was. It certainly didn't feel so bad now, and it looked okayish, but it's common knowledge that you only realise how badly you're burned when you're trying to sleep at night and the itchy feeling of your skin keeps you awake for hours on end.

The waiter appeared again, putting coffee, water, and a huge cheese sandwich on Ando's table. It was only then that Ando realised how hungry he was. The last thing he had eaten was a granola bar, and that was when they had walked to the Sphinx, over seven hours ago. Shooting the waiter a grateful smile, Ando immediately picked up the sandwich and took a huge bite. The cheese tasted different than the one he liked best, but the bread was nice and crisp, and those tomatoes were to die for. But then again, what wasn't after an eternity without food? The sandwich was gone before the waiter returned with a napkin, and the two men shared a laugh that transcended language barriers.

Two hours later, Ando left the café after devouring another sandwich, watching TV with the waiter without understanding a single word and writing a postcard that he now carefully put into the next post box.

_To Hiro: Feet are bleeding, pyramids are amazing, people are nice and you're wife's cooking is sorely missed. Greetings, Ando. PS: Give Spock a dog biscuit from me. _

Squinting into the early evening's sunlight, Ando smiled. It was a good day, it was a long day, it was the first day of his journey, and there were still many more to come.

**The End**


End file.
